If I Needed Someone
by Nilly's Issue
Summary: Annabeth's POV of all the times Percy's gotten hurt. Percabeth drizzled with copious amounts of pain and fluff.
1. Welcome to the Jungle

Title credits go the Beatles: the greatest band of all time.

* * *

><p><strong>Summary: Annabeth's POV of all the times Percy's gotten hurt. Percabeth, obviously.<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Protection: the act of protecting, or the state of being protected; preservation from loss, injury, or annoyance; defense; shelter; as, the weak need protection.<em>

* * *

><p>Annabeth didn't really think that Percy needed protection. She just... got paranoid when he was away from her. Let's face it, he isn't the luckiest guy out there, you know?<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: Welcome to the Jungle<strong>

* * *

><p>I don't like thunderstorms. I never have, and never will. Even under the protection of the camp's boundaries, the thunder was deep and ominous, and the rain could be seen dark and heavy on the top of the hill. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not a <em>scared<em> person. After everything I've been through, few things have the privilege to frighten me.

Maybe that's what brought me here, hugging my overlarge T-shirt to my body and speed walking to the Big House because I can't sleep. Lightning struck so bright, that it lit up the grass an eerie blue, and illuminated the pathway I was walking on.

I don't like thunderstorms. Especially those with lightning; it baffles me, how anyone can find them pretty, or beautiful at all. What is pretty about thousands of electrons jolting the earth and creating heat three times that of the Sun? Nothing.

And maybe I was running from that dream again. The one that struck a chord so deep inside my chest, it had hardly ever been touched before. It started out the same way every night, I was standing on a beach, staring at the ocean, but it was different. Everything was green, a vivid, brilliant green, churning and twisting with the tempestuous waves that rolled in the water. It seemed as though the very sea itself was humming with tension, taut as a bow string, ready to snap at any moment. Throughout the entire dream, that felt like it lasted for hours, I stood there and analyzed it, searching for the reason it didn't follow my conceptions. No answer ever stood out. And it bugged me.

It had ended differently tonight, though. Instead of fading into the mumbles of my other, normal dreams; it had ended with a heart stopping slash of pure black, like a haphazard slash of a paintbrush, silencing it all. And then I heard this laughing, this maniacal, chilling chuckle that radiated from far below and wrecked the vulnerable emotion of my original dream.

It was like it had been tainted, stained with evil.

But then suddenly the black wasn't threatening anymore, no longer sending fear running up my spine. It turned into lines, ones that were curved. As the dream started falling away from me, I recognized what the lines had been.

They were eyelashes; ridiculously long, black eyelashes, blinking innocently, pushing the alarm from my system and sending me sliding reluctantly into the real world.

I didn't understand any of it, whatsoever. It was of the ocean, which made me assume that Poseidon was trying to send me some sort of message. Yet that didn't fit either, a Big Three god wouldn't single me out. And for some reason, I knew it wasn't from him. It didn't give me that feeling. The dream (excluding the ending) was usually tense, dizzying, and confusing, but not old. I've gotten dream messages from my mother, and this had nothing in common with it.

A loud boom of thunder made me fly up and scurry the rest of the way to the Big House. I left my dignity at the bottom of the bottom of the stairs and hastily pounded on the door before sliding in without an okay.

Chiron was sitting at a small coffee table towards the wall, facing the window and peering with a critical eye into the dark clouds above us. It was almost as if he was looking for something… or someone.

He sighed heavily and faced me, his eyes clouded. "Annabeth, has sleep escaped you tonight, too?"

I nodded miserably, grabbing the blanket he held out to me and deflating into the hard wooden chair across from him. Ants were crawling up my spine. I had no idea why I was so tense; it was related to the storm, but something else was fueling it.

Something heavier.

"What's with this weather lately?"

Chiron's mouth flattened into a stiff line and he said, "I suppose passing it off as a minor fluke wouldn't be accepted by you, would it?"

That almost got a sliver of humor out of me, and I laughed and gripped the hot cup of tea that had mysteriously materialized in front of me. The scent wafted up to my nose and I breathed it in, muscles loosening and tension fleeing.

"Has it ever?"

Chiron chuckled tiredly and looked out the window once more.

"Are you looking for something?" I asked, curiosity overruling courtesy.

He shook his head slowly and turned his wheelchair, rolling towards a shelf and picking a newspaper up and throwing it on the table. The headline read in big black letters:

**FREAK THUNDERSTORMS SCOURING THE EAST COAST**

I read the article through, skimming over strange accidents, dead animals, and destroyed homes. The whole thing gave me a headache. What was going on with the gods? What was so monumental that they were wrecking the country for?

"Chiron," I asked. "I want to help. It's getting serious. What are they fighting over?"

"Annabeth, you know I'm only at liberty to say so much. You will get your chance, I promise you."

It got frustrating that he said that so much. I have no patience. Just sitting here, like a bump on a log, doing nothing, was killing me.

"I'm just sick of waiting… I want to help."

Chiron gave me one of his looks—the one that said your time will come, not unlike a Star Wars reenactment with fur and four legs.

"Annabeth, you must wait for the right per—."

BOOM!

An exceptionally loud crack of thunder shook the Big House and Chiron nearly rose out of his wheelchair while I rushed to the window. I put my hand on the cold pane and watched in awe as the rain pounded on the ground. My stomach sunk deeper. I was starting to hallucinate things, because I could've sworn that the thunder sounded like growling. Like there was a monster at the top of the hill.

"Chiron, it sounds like something's up there. Should I go…"

"No," he started quickly, analyzing the storm as if he saw something I didn't. "The borders are strong."

I shook my head. "But still, there could be something—."

"Annabeth?"

I tipped my head at the sudden whimsical, yet serious tone of his voice. It was the comforting one, like he knew things were happening but he couldn't do anything about it. He had adopted the same look when he watched me slay my first monster when I was eight.

"What?" I asked slowly.

"Do you trust me?"

He looked sad.

"What? Chiron, of course I trust you."

An unearthly roar that was definitely not thunder made the floors vibrate. Worry curdled in my stomach and I desperately searched for a sign of a monster.

I opened my mouth to protest, before he cut me off. "Don't go out there."

"But—."

"We need to see what he can do."

My eyes widened. "What? Chiron! If there's a new camper coming we need to help them! Who knows what could be out there!"

A forceful gust of wind thrashed the side of the building. Everything went eerily still. The rain was now a distant rushing sound. We must have been in the eye of the storm. Chiron's face was still, troubled. He was seeing something I wasn't; because there was no way he would just let an inexperienced child die without sending help, or going out there himself.

He avoided my incredulous look and rolled towards the door. If I strained my ears, I could hear a faint sound. Someone… crying?

Rarely did I ever disobey Chiron, but I couldn't take it anymore. How could I blatantly ignore someone in pain? I swung the door open. It was still outside, but I wasn't really focusing, because I completely missed the kid in front of me. I didn't move, half-stunned and shocked.

A boy. He was stumbling up the steps, tears running down his mud-streaked cheeks and one arm wrapped around Grover, dragging and then clumsily dropping him onto the porch. He was crying and sobbing and gasping for air, and holy crap what was I supposed to do? The boy's quivering knees finally gave out and I flinched when I heard them connect with the floor.

"Mom," he whimpered, coughing and collapsing to his side on the porch.

I held the door open, heard Chiron's sharp intake of breath, and the calm inhale of my own.

The boy rolled onto his back with a muted groan. He was covered in mud. Rainwater had plastered black hair, and maybe it was dark brown, to his forehead. There was a deep gash running down his temple, blood rolling down the bridge of his nose and leaking into his closed lids. It must have bothered him, because his eyes fluttered open.

And this was the moment. The one I'd been waiting for months, years even.

Green. His eyes were beautiful. A beautiful, surging, green sea; the exact one I'd seen in my dream. They were rushing with an angry mess of emotions that I couldn't even begin to decipher. Even muted by pain and the closeness of unconsciousness they were unnervingly bright. They were lined by deep black eyelashes, long and curled, the same ones that constantly warded off the evil.

He looked up at me with absolutely no comprehension, eyes clouded and troubled.

"He's the one," I breathed. "He must be."

Chiron's faced was creased with a worry that I couldn't place and he said, "Silence, Annabeth. He's still conscious. Bring him inside."

The boy's eyelids were slowly sinking shut, those haunting green eyes disappearing from my view.

"Not for very long," I whispered, crouching down beside him. Behind me, I could hear Chiron climbing out of his wheelchair, because there was no way Grover or the boy were walking inside on their own steam. Grover was stirring, mumbling something about Diet Coke and stretching his back legs out. That was almost reassuring, because if Grover could talk about food, he would be fine. The distinct clopping of Chiron's hooves on the wooden floor announced his arrival.

Chiron knelt in front of Grover, who was sprawled a few inches in front us, and needed to be moved in order to get to the boy. Expert hands shook the satyr's shoulder and assessed the lump on the back of his head.

Grover's eyes snapped open and he lurched up with a strangled gasp, "Percy!"

"He's right next to you, Grover." Chiron said, handing him a piece of ambrosia patting his back.

Grover looked to the ground next to him and groaned. "Oh, man, Percy. Gods, I messed up. Is he okay? The-the Minotaur! His mom… He stabbed it!"

"I do suggest you go get some rest, Grover. Annabeth and I will take care of Percy. You can come back in the morning. I'm sure Dionysus will want to speak with you about this recent… problem, you've come across."

Grover stumbled to his feet with Chiron's help and gave the boy—Percy—one last look before disappearing into the woods.

The boy was utterly still. Under the yellow light of the fan, I could see the watery blood that was sticking his hair to his forehead. Chiron shuffled forward on his knees pressed his hand to the wound, features dark with worry.

"You never do anything halfway, do you, Percy?"

In an attempt to comfort him, which was pointless, I said, "We've had ones come in looking worse."

He sighed heavily and nodded. "I suppose so, although he looks quite worrisome. Why don't we get him inside?"

He made it sound like a two-man project, when in reality there wasn't much I could do to help. Chiron threaded one hand under Percy's shoulders and another under his knees and lifted him off the ground like he was just a small child.

I don't know why the scene was rocking me so hard; I'd seen Chiron carry plenty of injured campers.

But maybe it was because I'd never seen him carry someone who looked so defeated. The boy's left arm was swinging freely and blood was dripping from his fingers, and his head was threatening to tip over Chiron's elbow, except that the centaur adjusted him at the last minute and hefted him up higher so the boy's face was resting against his shoulder, and gods why was I so affected by this?

"Could you get the door for me?" Chiron asked, gesturing towards the entryway. Finally gathering myself, because there was no way I cared that much that this kid looked so sad, but maybe I did, because he was the possible answer to my problems, I lurched to my feet and held open the door.

Chiron stepped through, bypassing the curious looks of Mr. D and headed straight into the infirmary. He laid the boy down carefully on the closest bed to the door. The room was completely empty, which was good; Percy definitely didn't need any obnoxious gawkers watching him heal.

He pressed his hand to Percy's chest and frowned. "Three broken ribs."

I flinched.

"Are you going to heal him?" I asked quietly. I had never actually seen him do it before. I was never around when the injuries were grave enough to warrant it, and ambrosia and nectar usually did the trick.

"Marginally. I wouldn't want to overload his system and the rest should be taken care of quite smoothly."

With that, he folded his front legs and bent over Percy, his hand on his head, and his lips moving in a silent prayer. And maybe I was hallucinating, but I could've sworn his hand glowed golden for a few seconds and then died.

Percy sighed, breathing deeper.

Chiron stood, looking down at Percy with a satisfied glance and then turned to me. "The rest can be solved with rest and ambrosia. Could I ask you to find clothes for him? I don't suppose I have any in the house to fit."

"He's really small."

Chiron chuckled quietly. I hightailed it out the door.

I managed to rifle through some of Malcolm's stuff and stole a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that I thought might fit him. Everyone was still asleep in my cabin, which looked weird and foreign to me, considering how wired I was.

Chiron took the clothes with an appreciative glance and I left the room. When he waved me in five minutes later, Percy was dry, save the damp hair, and curled on his side, looking completely exhausted and out.

Chiron instructed me to feed him ambrosia when he started waking up and I pretended not to notice him pull up the blanket and settled it over Percy's shoulder. It made my heart blossom with fondness; thousands of years old and he still cared for his students.

I settled down on the chair next to Percy's bed.

He looked a lot better now that he was clean and not covered with blood. Pulling my legs onto the chair, I rested my head on my hand.

"I hope you're the one." I whispered.

Unsurprisingly, I didn't get a response. The adrenaline was starting to die down, tempered by the soft lighting and the repetitive sound of breathing. It had to be around two in the morning. He was already a lot of work.

I didn't even remember sliding into sleep.

* * *

><p>"Mom…I can't—. Why's it.. working. Monster. Mrs. Dodds…"<p>

I leaned forward, struggling to make sense of the words spilling from his mouth. His head was rolling side to side, arms twitching as he fought off unknown horrors in his dreams.

"It's all… dark," he said breathlessly. "Eat me. Grover…furry. Bad math teacher. Wings."

His eyebrows furrowed even tighter and he clenched the blankets in his hands.

"Mom." With a pitiful whimper, he lurched to his side and cried out, "Dead."

My hand fluttered over his shoulder helplessly; there was nothing I could do. I had heard the story from Grover. How their car had crashed; Percy stabbing the Minotaur after his mother disappeared in a shower of golden light, and pulling Grover all the way down the hill.

He was in pain. I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to coax him to roll over to his back. He tensed, and then relented, back to supine.

"Hey, there, Percy. I'm about to give you ambrosia, okay? It's this stuff that makes you feel better, promise."

I was hoping I'd get through to him so he wouldn't try and fight me on this. I wasn't interested in force-feeding someone today. Percy's eyes remained firmly closed. Despite the restlessness that had held a tenacious hold on him, he still looked exhausted, like moving was work.

Figuring that he'd take it a lot better if he was sitting up more, I piled some pillows behind his back and spooned a little bit of it into his mouth. He flinched away, but swallowed regardless, too tired to fight.

It never ceased to amaze me how well ambrosia worked. Percy relaxed instantly, tension fleeing his body and the pain lines smoothing in his face.

"Better," he sighed slowly, sinking into the pillows.

I snorted and managed to get him to take in another few spoonfuls before he fell asleep again.

* * *

><p>His eyes were open.<p>

At first, it didn't even register in my mind, but as soon as that vibrant green smacked me in the face, I gathered myself.

"What will happen at the summer solstice?"

His eyebrows crinkled and he asked, "What?" His voice sounded terrible.

I looked around, scared that Chiron or Argus were going to catch me interrogating a guy who'd been asleep for the past day and a half.

"What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!" I rushed.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I don't…"

Somebody knocked on the door, and in a panic, I shoved more ambrosia into Percy's mouth and turned around.

I heard muffled voices, and figured that a camper must have intercepted Chiron. Laughing at my luck, I looked behind me and sighed with relief when I saw that Percy was asleep.

But the knock on the door came again and Chiron walked in the room.

"How is he?" he asked.

"Better than he was before."

Chiron stepped forward to assess him for himself. When he rested his hand on Percy's forehead, Percy shrugged away and rolled onto his side, huffing with irritation. Chiron stared at him in blank surprise until he chuckled and walked towards the door.

"You've done a great job, Annabeth. He should be waking up soon. We'll see if we can move him to the porch in a couple hours."

And with that, he walked out.

* * *

><p>I managed to catch a few more hours of sleep before I woke up to the afternoon sunshine on my face. I realized I woke up to Chiron walking out the door. I noticed the empty bed, and the twisted sheets, and went after him. We ended up on the porch and he laid Percy down on a deck chair. Percy rolled on his side, mumbling something along the lines of, "Thanks, Mom."<p>

Chiron and I both kept our faces smooth as if those two whispered words didn't make dread curl in our stomachs.

"He should wake up within the hour. I have a game of pinochle with Dionysus waiting for me."

He still looked a little pale, so I ran back into the house and filled a glass with nectar, adding my own personal touch of a cherry with an umbrella stuck through it.

I set the cup on the table beside Percy and threw a blanket over his waist.

Snorting, I turned away and shook my head.

"You better be the one."

* * *

><p><strong>So, how's the first one look? <strong>

**You see, I'm trying to balance this out, by downgrading the thought process of Annabeth. She's only 12 during this scene, and she doesn't know Percy. It was an interesting challenge. I already have a SoM scene down, and I'm positive that the next one I do is going to go up really fast-it's when Percy gets bit by the scorpion. And I'm just bursting with ideas for it :)**

Once again, my apologies about Divided They Fall. I'm having a really tough time pooping out the next chapter . It's just stuck.

**Ha. Didya like the pun there? Purty yucky. I downgraded the humor in this one too. Because, Annabeth really doesn't have the great sense of humor like Percy does; she's more of the logical scale of things. Not as much fun to write, but still enjoyable. **

Otherwise, plenty more fluff to come.**  
><strong>

**(Another update.) I'm coming out with a different one-shot. Here's the summary, if you're interested:**

_"The longer Percy and Annabeth are best friends, the more she begins to think about him... that way." _

**It's probably going in the same format All Along the Watchtower went, if you read that. Review and tell me what you think it's going to be about :) And if you get super close, I'll probably reply and tell you about it. 'Cause it's pretty funny.**

**And while you're at it, review for this one, too! :)**

**Song credits go to Guns 'N' Roses- I thought it fit. :)**


	2. Turn the Page

Song credits go to Bob Seger, a lyrical genius who doesn't require a dictionary to decipher.

* * *

><p><em>Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.<em>

_-C. S. Lewis_

* * *

><p>"You always hear people saying that life is like a book. I can't say I disagree. Life tends to turn the page without your consent. But the advancement in the story is something you need, no matter how terrifying it might seem at first."<p>

- Annabeth Chase

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two: Turn the Page<strong>

* * *

><p>The bed is a beautiful invention. And it's one of those things that people didn't really appreciate until they went without for an extended period of time. They were soft and comfortable, and Annabeth could just sink into her bunk and sleep forever… Who knew packing was so much work? She didn't. She was nervous, and tired. She was going to see her dad for the first time in a long time. A very long time. Maybe she'd just sleep and forget about it…<p>

"Annabeth, you still have your shoes on; and your knife is about to impale you in the nose."

Groaning, she pushed her head into the pillow and slammed her weapon the bedside table.

"Happy now?"

Malcolm laughed, but didn't leave the room and that meant he wanted to talk to her and that meant she had to move. Annabeth crawled up from the beauty that was sleepy unconsciousness and faced short blond hair and those ridiculously innocent gray eyes she could never stay mad at.

"Yes, Malcolm?" she asked.

He scratched the back of his head and said, "Well, before you went on that quest you said you'd teach me a few tricks with your knife and I thought…And I forgot all month, but I was wondering if you could…"

Annabeth stared at Malcolm, her bed, back to Malcolm.

"I did make a promise…"

He beamed and her slight frustration at her lack of sleep crumbled. How could she deny that face? Malcolm jumped up and down and sprinted out the door. He was yelling for her to hurry up. For a second, she had to wonder whether or not she had had that sort of innocence when she was nine. She probably hadn't. Too many monsters and near-death experiences. She supposed she had achieved some sort of reparations when she met Luke and Thalia. They had been step-parents—siblings more like it. But they had been enough.

Thinking of Luke, she wondered where he was. He had only given her a brief, yet tight hug on her return. But he hadn't said much, just looked at her funny. Like he was trying to memorize her face before a trip. He had been distant all month. It worried her, but she passed it off. Why would Luke want to leave Camp Half-blood? He'd die out there.

He wouldn't dare leave her.

"Annabeth, Annabeth, Annabeth, _come on_!"

She laughed and shot up, joining Malcolm on the pathway.

He looked up at her and asked excitedly, "So what're you gonna teach me?"

"Well, we haven't practiced in a while. We'll have to review a little bit. See if you got any better while on reprieve."

He jumped at the bait and nodded enthusiastically. "I did, I did, I swear!" Annabeth laughed, which felt kind of funny, after all she'd been through that week. Malcolm apparently wasn't okay with silence and asked, "So, how was the quest again? Can you tell me what happened? How was Grover? And what about Percy? Do you like him? Does he like you? Is he good at sword fighting? Did he do any cool stuff with water? What about—."

"Malcolm!" she interrupted. "I'd tell you all about it if you'd let me talk. And what's with all the Percy stuff?"

He blushed and quieted.

Annabeth had told him the story at least a hundred times over, yet he never tired of hearing it. The Percy questions were new, though. She wasn't sure that they had ever talked.

"He taught me this super cool sword trick! He's really nice. I like him. He kind of reminds me of Luke."

Annabeth smiled and shook her head. "I guess I could say I thought the same thing. But they're different. In some ways."

Malcolm shrugged, seeming to be pondering her words. "I guess they are. Percy's way shorter. And smaller."

"Don't tell him that."

He laughed and continued, "And Percy is a lot funnier than Luke. He says stuff that make me crack up all the time."

Annabeth's nose wrinkled and she nodded. "I suppose so."

"I'm done interrupting. You should tell the story now."

His thought process was untraceable. She recounted the quest, and wasn't surprised to lose her breath at some parts. Looking back on it now, she wondered how she'd survived. It all seemed so incredible. Annabeth wasn't capable of incredible. On the other hand…

"Percy really fought a god?" Malcolm asked in awe.

"Yes, he did."

Malcolm shook his head in complete disbelief. "That is so amazing. I bet no one else in camp ever defeated a god before. And especially Ares!"

"A battle isn't all about skill. Percy was smarter than Ares, and Ares acted on his temper. Sometimes you can win the war before you even start it if you have the right plan."

Malcolm shrugged at her speech. She hadn't expected him to take it all in. What nine year-old really cared about battle tactics?

"I suppose so…"

They continued walking, talking about different swords and their advantages. Using a sword was unfamiliar territory for her. She was proficient at best, but better with her knife. They reached the clearing and Annabeth felt a strange chill go down her spine. It didn't feel pleasant. Ominous, more like it.

"Do you…?" she started, drifting off.

"—feel like something's wrong?" Malcolm guessed. "Yes, I do."

Annabeth's eyebrows furrowed and she started walking faster towards the clearing. There were people. What were they looking at? Why were they whispering? What was going on? She started running. She started sprinting. The trees were rustling. The nymphs were almost never out this late. It was edging on seven, what were they doing?

She plowed through the group of young campers. They were a new batch of fifth graders. They were lost and immature.

Gasping for air, she looked.

Percy.

Nymphs.

Percy.

He was hanging on the arms of two nymphs. His head was lolling on his neck and he was breathing loudly. Whistling. Like he couldn't get air. His skin color was all wrong. A green tinge lingered around his jaw, but a pale gray had taken over everything else. His eyelids were fluttering rapidly, struggling for consciousness.

What was she doing here?

"Percy! Someone get Chiron! Go!" she screamed, skidding to a stop in front of the wood nymphs. They were in a panic, not accustomed to dealing with hurt campers. "Put him down!" she instructed hurriedly, grabbing under his shoulders and lowering Percy to the ground. His breathing was all wrong and he looked terrible and why was his face so gray? And how come his eyes weren't open, and holy crap, Percy was going to die. He was going to die—.

"What happened? What's wrong?" a loud voice boomed, deep and in command. Beckendorf appeared over her shoulder and dropped to his knees next to Percy.

"Jesus," he breathed. "Where's Chiron? He needs help!"

"I don't know! I don't know why he's—. Wait, his hand." His palm was covered with an angry red welt that was oozing puss from the middle. "That's a… bite. But, where?"

"Annabeth, Annabeth, shit! Annabeth! He's not breathing! Holy shit, where's Chiron?"

The numerous swear words didn't register in my head and the only thing I could see was Percy's chest refusing to rise.

Then a horn was blowing and I was getting shoved and Chiron was there. He was picking Percy up and galloping towards the Big House and before I even realized I was running I was there.

Chiron laid Percy down on the bed, and then his hands were fluttering over him and he was whispering some words that I had never heard him say. He was swearing. That was bad. If Chiron was swearing it was bad. _Percy _was bad.

He flattened his palm over Percy's ribs, _his lungs_, and started praying: harried, fervent, whispered words that he spoke with a defiant voice; like he would absolutely not let another child die before his eyes.

Chiron's hands glowed golden, eerily similar to Percy's arrival, which seemed like decades ago. This time it was more powerful. Hotter. Stronger.

The glow died and Percy remained still, no reaction from his slack body. He didn't even twitch.

"Percy, damnit. Breathe!" Chiron growled. His hand shone brighter this time.

Her lungs ached from the lack of air in Percy's chest. There was a pounding sound in her ears.

The blood rushed through her head.

Chiron cursed.

A small breeze glided along Annabeth's neck.

It was silent. Annabeth's chest hurt. It was aching. Percy _couldn't…_

Percy's eyebrows drew together, like he was frustrated, and he took a massive gulp of air and rolled to his side with strength I didn't think he'd have, gasping for breath. He was coughing and wheezing and it sounded terrible. Chiron looked visibly relieved, and he gently pushed Percy back against the bed, pressing a hand to his forehead and saying, "Shh, child. It will come. You must calm down."

Percy twitched defiantly, but was slowly sinking into the bed, probably tired. His forehead was covered with sweat, but color was returning to his skin. Annabeth took the initiative and filled a glass with nectar, plopping a straw in it with trembling hands.

"Do you know what happened?" she asked quietly, her back purposely turned away from Chiron until she gained some semblance of self-control.

"Scorpion poison. Incredibly fast-acting. I do not understand where it came from, and I highly doubt that Percy would be fooling around with one in the first place."

She turned around, done wetting and squeezing a rag and sank into a chair near Percy's bed. Annabeth carefully wiped the cold sweat gathering on his forehead and just breathed with him. "So you think this was intentional?"

"Whether I want to say so or not; yes, I do."

Dread curdled in Annabeth's stomach and she swallowed it. Leaning forward, she slid the straw through Percy's lips, grateful when he sipped it instead of blowing chunks all over her shirt. The change was visible and Percy calmed, breathing evenly while in his half-sleep, unconscious something or another that was both a relief and slightly worrying.

Percy mumbled something unintelligible and reflexively clutched at the blanket in his fists. Chiron must have noticed this, because he stood up, saying, "He should be waking up soon."

Annabeth sure hoped so.

Percy had ridiculously long eyelashes. Annabeth wasn't the type of girl to obsess over makeup and looks, but she looked in the mirror every now and then; she definitely hadn't been blessed in the eye department. He was.

Chiron settled down beside her, a roll of white bandages falling on the bed. He gently started wrapping Percy's hand. Even with the slightest amount of pressure, Percy jerked back and mumbled something offensive in Greek.

Okay, so she couldn't stop the smile creeping up her face.

He was slowly but surely wriggling his way into her heart. Annabeth trusted few people: Grover, Luke, and Chiron were the few that she saw as safe. But Percy was so _different_. She couldn't put a word to it, couldn't explain it. He was the relentless variable that kept on flipping letters. Sometimes he was the whole alphabet.

Percy blinked.

"Here we are again," he said quietly.

"You idiot! You were green and turning gray when we found you! If it weren't for Chiron's healing…" She drifted off, unable to process the idea of watching Percy die in front of her.

_Luke, oh, Luke, you didn't. How could you?_ She thought.

Her stomach twisted tightly.

Betrayal.

He… he left. He left _her_.

They traveled together through thick and thin, through death and destruction and _he left her_. Her heartbeat pounded through her head, and Annabeth blinked away the tears burning at the corner of her eyes.

She heard Percy and Chiron talking about Zeus and gods and Luke, but didn't take any of it in. The only thing she could think was _pain_.

Then Percy was blinking those green green eyes and asking her if he could get up. Percy Jackson, pushing boundaries for twelve years and counting. Of course, she warned him that he was still weak, still recovering, but he ignored her. Percy did what he wanted, heedless of the repercussions.

And she had to smother the _I told you so_ when he crumpled out of the bed and nearly had a close encounter with the floor. She caught him anyway. It wasn't hard to wrap her arm around him and lug him to the railing outside. By the time they were on the porch, he was sweating and Annabeth was holding more of his weight than he was, but Percy got there.

She listened with awed silence as he expressed that he didn't want to leave her alone. That was…

"Take care, Seaweed Brain." She said. Then added for good measure, "keep your eyes open."

He met her eyes, clear as day, and said, "You too, Wise Girl."

Annabeth dismissed herself, walking up the hill towards a new start. A new beginning. She hugged her dad, who smelled like leather and spice, and gave a weak smile to her step-mom, one that hopefully said _Let's try again_. The blame fell on them both. It was shared equally.

She ran her fingers down Thalia's tree, thinking about her, blue eyes and black hair, wondering what Thalia would say to Luke now. What Thalia would think about Percy.

It hit her like a large gust of wind.

Percy Jackson was her _friend_.

* * *

><p><strong>How was that, guys? Once again, stream of consciousness downgraded. Although, I did try and throw a little bit more humor into it. I don't want to bore you all. I'd like to think that her feeling are... on par? It's obvious that she doesn't have any feelings for Percy yet. Yet. <strong>

**The fun I'll have from here on out. This is interesting to write though, don't get me wrong. The development from friendship to romance is so intriguing. A million different directions.**

**Did you like the "Annabeth" quote at the beginning? Figured it'd be cool to add. Does it sound like something she'd say?**

**Anyways, I hope you like :)**

**Review!**


	3. In One Ear

**Summary: **Annabeth's point of view while Percy's unconscious after the ship explodes. Sea of Monsters missing scene. Title credits go to Cage the Elephant.

* * *

><p><em>"Fear is a part of life. It's a warning mechanism. That's all. It tells you when there's danger around. Its job is to help you survive. Not cripple you into being unable to do it."<em>

_-Jim Butche_r, Dead Beat

* * *

><p>"Percy Jackson will forever be scaring the crap out of me."<p>

- Annabeth Chase

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: In One Ear<strong>

* * *

><p>Watching a monster pluck soldiers like candy off of a boat was not my idea of a great escape. And neither was dying. Percy tried to reach forward and slice the monster before it swiped away another deckhand, but he was far too slow.<p>

"Everyone get below!" he yelled.

"We can't!" Clarisse yelled, pulling her sword out. "Below deck is in flames!"

I searched around helplessly. The entire ship was in complete chaos. Flickering soldiers were sprinting back and forth, running around like chickens with their heads cut off without command. Lifeboats were banging against the side of the ship, and I could see the supports barely holding them up. They could be a way out.

"Lifeboats! Quick!" I yelled, pointing them out.

Clarisse shook her head. "They'll never get clear of the cliffs. We'll get eaten."

I understood the risks, but it was the lesser of two evils. I'd rather get blown into the sea with Percy right next to me than get eaten by an unseen monster.

"We have to try." I urged. Then I noticed something in my friend's hand. "Percy, the thermos."

He looked at me, stress creasing his face, and then stared back at the engine rooms. "I can't leave Tyson."

"We have to get the boats ready!" I screamed, trying to fight over the roaring of the swirling sea. Tyson was immune to fire. I had to believe he could survive the blast. We were all going to die if we didn't hurry up and do something. Clarisse seemed to get my message. She and a few Confederate soldiers started uncovering a boat, preparing to climb into it, and I was about to follow their lead. It was high time to scramble.

Percy tossed me the thermos. "Get the other boat. I'll get Tyson."

The idiot. The stupid, self-sacrificial, foolish, idiot! I struggled to not scream are you kidding me? "You can't! The heat will kill you!" Percy gave me one last reluctant look before he sprinted toward the engine rooms. Furious, and lost, I turned and pulled the cover off of the other boat, tossing it into the sea. Worry stewed in my stomach, the demigod instinct that had saved my life hundreds of times before was reoccurring. I looked for Percy.

He was gone. No, he was in the air. Flailing helplessly in the air while Scylla's teeth were wrapped around his backpack, and swung him back and forth like a rabid dog with a toy. My stomach sunk as the boat dropped from the ropes and hit the water. The current quickly pulled me away from the ship, and I clutched the sides of the lifeboat, nausea curling in my stomach.

Percy, in a swing of sheer luck, swung his sword behind him and stabbed Scylla in the eye. Screeching, she dropped him and he started falling towards the ship. He was at least a hundred feet in the air, if he landed on the ship's deck he'd die, and if he didn't die there then Scylla would find him again.

The struggling engine of the boat finally gave out, and it exploded.

Percy was falling down, and the wreckage of the CSS Birmingham was flying up.

I wrenched open the cap of the thermos. I only got a glimpse of Percy jerking out of his freefall before the boat started spinning rapidly, throwing my stomach into my throat. Everything disappeared in a flurry of water, foam, and wind, the boat skipping helplessly along the top of the ocean. My head ached, and my knuckles were white from clutching the sides of the boat. The rushing in my ears stilled, and the furious spinning slowed down until I was floating slowly, surrounded by wreckage.

Nobody could be seen. I couldn't find Clarisse's boat anywhere nearby. But I wasn't worried, she was determined, and no single monster would take her down.

Percy. Percy, I was worried about. I had lost track of him while I was spinning out of control, and with speed he had; he could've been anywhere. Tyson was gone. A lump crawled up my throat. He'd saved my life and I'd shunned him the whole time. I shook my head free of the grief and shoved it to the back of my head. First things first.

Find Percy. Alive or… alive.

I plucked a thin plank from the water, and started halfheartedly paddling forward through the wreckage, searching for a sign of him. An unopened Dr. Pepper floated by and I brightened at my minimal luck and threw it in the boat. Far off to my left I saw Percy's knapsack floating upside down in the water. Hopefully, if that was close, then Percy was nearby. It was barely afloat, filled with water. A Ziploc bag of ambrosia, and Hermes's multivitamins were still inside. Tired, I scanned around in a circle. Nothing. He had to be under the water then. Thank the gods he couldn't drown.

That meant I had to get wet.

"The things I do for you, Seaweed Brain." I muttered.

I flipped both legs over and dropped into the water. The Florida water was warm, if I was even in Florida anymore. Taking a breath, I dove underwater and opened my eyes. It was blurry and stung, but all I saw was floating wreckage. Kicking my legs around, I spun in a circle and looked for a dark green shirt. He had been wearing a green shirt right? Yeah he had, because she'd thought about how it made his eyes stand out—.

A green shirt. That was connected to dark blue jeans. He was a long way down there. I could see the top of his mop of black hair, and only a glimpse of his clothes. I'd have to swim fast so I didn't die without oxygen. Surfacing, I took a huge gulp of air and plunged back down, furiously pumping my arms and pushing against the pressure of the water.

There was a dolphin poking him. At first, I thought it was trying to eat Percy. But it wasn't. The dolphin nuzzled its snout-thing (Percy would know what that was) into his shoulder and curled its tail around his back, almost… protectively. It was (and I never say this) really cute. Obviously being the son of the sea god had its privileges.

The dolphin's head swung around and it stared at me with black eyes. If I could have swallowed, I would have. I swam farther down, slower now; hopefully it realized that I didn't want to hurt him. The dolphin watched me, and I watched it. Reaching down, I gently wrapped my hand around Percy's, keeping my burning gaze on the dolphin, trying to convey my message. It swam right up to my face, stared at me with an almost human awareness and then turned around and disappeared into the ocean.

My lungs were burning for oxygen. I pulled Percy a few feet higher and then ditched so I could swim and get more air. A few gulping breaths later I returned, tugging on Percy's hand and getting a good grip around his chest. It was all blurry, but I could still see his face, features slack and hair in his eyes. I was struck by how close we were. Worry nagged at my insides, but I shoved it away, because at least he wasn't in the ocean floating alone.

He was under my wing. It was my responsibility to make sure he stayed safe anyway. He was the one who made it so hard.

We broke the surface, water dripping from my face and hair, while Percy was completely dry. I supported him with one arm and pushed him to my side so I could figure a way to get us both in the boat. It definitely wasn't a state of the art setup; Percy would have had some sort of technical sea name for it. It had a relatively flat bottom, and if I got Percy up quickly, then it wouldn't tip over… hopefully.

I looked down, checking the condition of my Garmin-certified Oceanic Compass. His face was still floating in the water. The sight made my skin crawl. It made him look… wrong. Only people who were actually drowning looked like that. I grimaced and pulled his head up to rest over my shoulder.

"This isn't personal, Seaweed Brain." I grumbled.

Percy's head shifted, his breath ghosting along the breath back of my neck as he mumbled a few incoherent words. I felt something bump my ribs and started until I realized it was his elbow. His fingers automatically clutched my shirt. I could feel his knuckles brush against my bare skin through a hole in the fabric.

It was all wrong—the peace I was feeling that moment. The sun was beginning to set, and was a gentle source of light to my left, warming my skin and drying my hair. Percy was alive and breathing—in my arms—and he was relaxed and safe.

I shook my head clear of the tired daze and gripped the side of the boat. No matter how embarrassingly comfortable I had been, the water wasn't that refreshing anymore. I was too exhausted to try and think up some plan, so I decided to go with pure brute strength. I threw my arm into the boat, up to my elbow, and then pulled Percy higher, probably scraping his back against the wooden wall. With one last heave, I tugged Percy into the boat, grateful for once that he was short and lanky, and fell in right next to him.

Tired, wet, and shaking from the strain, I caught my breath lying on the wooden floor. I didn't even realize my arm was still wrapped around Percy until the soft movement of his chest rising up and down started to lull me to sleep. I wiped my eyes and propped myself up on one elbow.

"You are so much work." I breathed.

He didn't answer. My feet were still hanging out on the top of the boat and so were Percy's. We were slumped over it sideways. I groaned as I crawled to my knees on the floor; my muscles were sore from the slew of things we'd been through. Too much. I was pretty sure I was developing arthritis already.

The boat was surprisingly not that tippy. I couldn't exactly stand up in it, but it was decent enough. I resituated Percy so he at least looked semi-comfortable lying on the wooden floor next to me; my hand found its way under his head as I moved him. Demigod or not—a person's brain can only take so much abuse.

I really hoped he didn't have a concussion. The lingering unconsciousness was freaking me out. Maybe he was just exhausted; the slight purplish tinge underneath his eyes pointed to it. It was weird—thinking about Percy being tired. He was the hero, the clumsy, clueless, albeit oddly gifted, hero. He wasn't supposed to flaws. Percy was supposed to be invincible and untouchable. But, he wasn't. I had seen prove of that at the end of last summer. I was still in shock with what Luke turned to, what he did to Percy. He tried to kill someone.

Different topic. We needed a method of transportation.

As I stitched together a wayward uniform that was floating nearby, I couldn't help but keep my eye on Percy. A floppy haired, green eyed, and scrawny, teenaged boy.

My mom and Poseidon may have their issues.

But I had to give it to the King of the Sea.

That guy sure knew how to breed.

* * *

><p><strong>Laugh! That last line was totally hilarious. She said, in a very roundabout way, that Percy was attractive. :) And we all know she thinks that. I'm going to pinpoint that her crush had to have started around his part of the series. Because they do the whole huggy-holdy thing after the Sirens, and then she kisses his cheek after the Chariot race. <strong>

**So, that's what I'm going to think. :) Besides, he has black hair and green eyes, the best combination, EVAR!**

**I've always wondered whether I want to marry a guy with that combo because I'm attracted to it, or because I read this series... Hmm... **

**Review?(:**


End file.
